The Time Traveler's Wife
by EtharahxBennica
Summary: A series of one-shots consisting of the Doctor and Clara's journeys throughout time in space. - TAKING SUGGESTIONS -
1. The Time Traveler's Wife

**THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE**

_**Summary**_: _"A series of one-shots consisting of the Doctor and Clara's journeys throughout time in space." _

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _These one-shots are __**NOT **__in order, they are set at various points throughout the Doctor and Clara's period together.__  
><em>

**_Clara was twenty-four in 'The Bells of Saint John' which took place in 2013_; **_but she was twenty-seven in 'Deep Breath', according to _Strax's X-Ray thing_. As Danny had only just been introduced in 'Into the Dalek' and she claims she _loves_ him, atleast a year has passed since then. The oldest Clara will be in this fanfiction will be somewhere between twenty-eight and thirty-six _(No set age...yet)

_Now - **Onto the story!**_

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><p><span><strong>ONE.) THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE<strong>

_(set between THE NAME OF THE DOCTOR and THE DAY OF THE DOCTOR)_

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><p>Clara's favourite book and her favourite author, throughout her life, had never connected. Her favourite author was decided on what they told, and what they had to say. Cordelia Puddle, from what Clara assumed, was intended to be the author herself, Amelia Williams. The brunette would occasionally glance at the back cover as she read, and made connections between the appearance of Cordelia and Amelia. The red hair, the hazel eyes, the freckles and the pale skin. Clara liked Cordelia's feisty nature, and the sass the character radiated, though she hated the writing style of Amelia Williams.<p>

Clara sat at her desk in her office, with her favourite book in hand. She first read it when she was seventeen, and from that point it had remained at number one. Throughout her travels, she had only grown to love it more. She felt the connection to Clare. She sometimes felt like the Doctor and her themselves were Clare and Henry. The aspect of him appearing into her life every once in a while, then disappearing again, sometimes in the wrong order. Sometimes, in the back of her mind, she would hope that they could be that way, the way that Clare and Henry were in that book.

She had to admit, when she met that bowtie-wearing-man on the swing when she was ten, she did like aspects about him. She thought it was funny how he was on the wing, although he was old. She liked how he had floppy hair, and that he understood her a little. She liked how he was okay with taking advice from a ten-year-old, when most men would say they didn't need much help. She remembered calling the Doctor's idea of '_destiny_' rubbish, and he just chuckled. She remembered her young mother later telling her then not to talk to strangers, though in the back of her mind she thought, '_I feel like I've seen him before_'.

She looked up at the clock above her blackboard. It was Wednesday, the usual day that they would travel. On queue, the familiar wheezing sound of the TARDIS engines, and Clara smiled as the Doctor stepped out.

"Wait a sec!" she realised, standing up, "I just need to get y coat from the staffroom."

She left the room, as the Doctor sat in the desk waiting, picking up her book and looking it over.

Clara came back in the room, holding her coat, as he said, "Time Traveler's Wife - I've read it, time travel's rubbish, no consistency at all, but that ending though, I cried-"

"-Doctor," she cut over him, "Are we going?"

"Hang on! One minute!" he read the page over and then placed it down, "We're... sort of like them, you know... just, except... well... I'm... not chronologically-impaired... and... you're... _not christian_..."

She smiled, and he just stood up awkwardly.

"_Hen-ry_" she perked, stretching the syllables.

He held out his hand, "_Clare_."

"Where are we going?"

"How does 1963 sound?"


	2. Out of Order

**THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE**

_**Summary**_: _"A series of one-shots consisting of the Doctor and Clara's journeys throughout time in space."_

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><p><span><strong>TWO.) OUT OF ORDER<strong>

_(set directly after 'KILL THE MOON')_

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><p>She stared out at the orb in the sky that, in almost forty years, she'll walk over the surface, and it'll crack to reveal a creature, that after all this time, has been growing on the inside.<p>

She heard the wheezing sound and automatically, she shouted, "I don't want you here, I already told you tha-" she stopped in her tracks and suddenly forgot how to breath as her eyes looked over the figure standing in front of her.

"It's you..." she finally managed to breath.

"Well, who else would it be?" the man standing there asked.

There he was, young again, with the distinctive bowtie and purple tweed coat. The Chin. The Eleventh Doctor.

Clara took a shallow breath, and replied to his question, "The other you."

Comprehension spread across his features, "Am I... too far ahead?"

She laughed slightly, "Yeah..." she nodded, "It's 2018, I'm turning _thirty_ next year, Doctor."

"And you're still traveling with me?" he said, slightly shocked.

"You should be doing... young things!" he danced just the way he did when she first met him, "and you're still hanging around with an old geezer like me?"

She shook her head, "You have... _no idea_..." she was happy for him to be there, it felt almost like the man standing before her and the man that had just let her down were two different people, "he - _you_ - pushed me... to the limit, and I _can't_ do it."

He frowned, creases appearing in his forehead, "That doesn't sound like me."

"Because _it's not_!" she suddenly outbursted, "It's hardly you! That's why I started dating Danny! I needed a better way to get over your loss, you turning into a stupid old man with a bad temper and telling me to... _take the stabilisers off my bike_! That... that was the worst feeling in the world." she took a deep breath, "It's not when you lose limbs that you suddenly feel like utter _crap_, it's when you feel heartbreak... it hits you right where should not be damaged... the most important element of _anyone's_ existence... I dated _Danny_ because he was a soldier, a man that saw reason and did what he was told - _so different from you_! And it's because of _you_, that I've lied to everyone, including _myself_, telling them I love them, that I do it for the stars and the wonders... _I can't do it_..!"

"Clara..." he said, directing her towards the couch, "Calm down... just _calm down_..."

He wondered what horrible thing he had done to _his Clara_ that broke her this much. He wished he could just slap his future self, or that he hadn't done it. He most of all wished that it hadn't been Clara he had done it to.

Lost in thought, he stiffened when Clara gave him a kiss, and for once, he didn't push her away for any reason. The usual garbled reasons that were just excuses. This time, his companion fell asleep in his arms, and this time, he didn't pull away.


	3. A Story of a Teacher & a Man in a Bowtie

**THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE**

_**Summary**_: _"A series of one-shots consisting of the Doctor and Clara's journeys throughout time in space."_

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><p><strong>THREE.) A Story of a Teacher and a Man in a Bowtie<strong>

_(An story by Courtney Woods)_

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><p><em>A Story of a Teacher and a Man in a Bowtie<em>

by Courtney Woods

For the record, this can be viewed as just a story.

I'm not sure if you, Miss Oswald, should be blabbing about this.

But I know you're sad.

Did that man with the bowtie leave you? 'Cause it's a shame if he did. I remember him coming to the school, every once in a while, just to pick you up. Remember that first day of school, Miss? Remember when you pulled up with your motorcycle and all the boys said you were hot, then they asked where you got your motorbike, and you said, all while smiling, "My boyfriend gave it to me."

Their faces fell, Miss.

I'm pretty sure, given the choice, they would be jacking off to you every minute of the day. If you hadn't clarified on that first day that you had a boyfriend, they would be hitting on you.

Every minute of the day.

I know you asked for a poem, Miss, so here is one.

_This is the story of a teacher, and a man in a bowtie._

_He came, first, that Wednesday, picking her up from work,_

_She said, when asked, that she would not lie,_

_He was her bestfriend, who came with a wonderful spurt,_

_His name was unknown, to a student atleast,_

_Allowing conversation,_

_About their relationship, heaps and heaps,_

_Over time, the teacher started to lack that certain flirtation,_

_No one noticed, except me, of course._

Please don't show anyone this story. I know how it feels to lose someone. My second-cousin Mickey went missing years and years ago, then he came back, but never talks to anyone about where he went. Sucks to be him, his girlfriend died just after he went missing in the first place.

_P.S: _I suck at poems.

**... B -**

**Don't worry about me, Courtney**

**...~ Miss Oswald**


	4. Cold

**THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE**

_**Summary**_: _"A series of one-shots consisting of the Doctor and Clara's journeys throughout time in space."_

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><p><strong>FOUR.) Cold <strong>_(prompt by cclarasdoctor)_

_Set between THE NAME OF THE DOCTOR and THE DAY OF THE DOCTOR_

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><p>The TARDIS' strained sound reigned over the Maitland's street. It was Wednesday, and the Doctor already had an idea of where exactly to take Clara.<p>

He knocked on the door, and waited for a moment. Another.

Silence.

He knocked again on the door, louder this time, thinking perhaps Clara hadn't heard him. He was about ready to hop in the TARDIS and call her when the door opened.

He frowned at her, "Have you gotten shorter?"  
>The Doctor sized her up.<p>

"No, Doctor, I-"

"I swear, you've gotten shorter!"

"Doctor-"

"How can someone get _that_ much shorter in the space of a week? Honestly-"

"Doctor!" she shouted.

He looked her in the face and noticed that her eyes were puffy and her nose was bright red.

"Doctor, I'm sick. We can't go today."

"Well... that doesn't explain how you've gotten shorter!"

"I'm not wearing heels, you know."

"Oh..." he stood there awkwardly.

"Doctor, you can go now," she said after a second.

He walked straight past her, into the kitchen, and turned on the kettle.

"You can't just come in here!" she exclaimed, "This isn't _my_ house, you know, it's George's, my _boss_!"

"You're sick, when people are sick, they get hot chocolate," he found the hot chocolate mix after rummaging through the cupboards for many minutes.

"Doctor, you don't have-" he covered her mouth, "But I want to. Go sit in the lounge room. Pip pip!"

She pouted for a little bit, "Never say 'pip pip' again."

He stuck out his tongue and continued to make hot-chocolate.

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><p>Clara sat on the couch muttering to herself when he came out of the kitchen with four mugs of hot chocolate.<p>

"Doctor, there are only two of us," she pointed out.

"But double the chocolate is double the fun!" he exclaimed.

"You are such a child."

"You're such an adult. _How_ old are you now, exactly?"

"twenty-six, and you?"

"I don't know. Old."

"That's not an answer."

He sat next to her, and wrapped her up in a blanket.

"Doctor?" she asked after a moment.

"Yes?"

She sighed, "Why are you here?"

"Because you're my friend," he gazed at her intently.

She shook her head, "friends don't look at their friends like that, Doctor, honestly, tell me why you're here."

He took a deep breath, "I care for you, Clara, is that so hard for you to understand?"

"Like a friend?"

He gulped, "Yes."

"Just clarifying."

He found the TV tuner, and turned on the television.

"How do you feel about watching the next five years worth of seasons of Supernatural?"


End file.
